


It's Better If You Let Me...

by sbaysan



Series: Despite All Odds [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Children of Characters, Dick Grayson/Reader - Freeform, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Jason Todd/Reader (Past), Jason Todd/Reader - Freeform, Love Triangles, POV Third Person, Post-Break Up, Relationship Problems, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Assault, Single Parents, Slow Burn, Tim Drake/Reader - Freeform, Time Skips, Unplanned Pregnancy, Violence, single mother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25741630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbaysan/pseuds/sbaysan
Summary: She delivers a baby by Jason. Named Amelia Lake Todd.But Jason abruptly decides he doesn’t want to be a father...by leaving.Cue the drama.Enter her moving on.
Relationships: (Past) Jason Todd/Reader, Dick Grayson/Reader, Jason Todd/Reader
Series: Despite All Odds [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867270
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78





	1. Unhumble Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> A fancier summary if the other didn't do it for ya:
> 
> POV you're Jason's baby mama and you develop a friendship (and possibly more???) and further progress your relationship with Dick Grayson, your ex-boyfriend and baby daddy Jason's older brother while Jason is out

**A seemingly infinite lifetime ago......**

Dick would sometimes subtly complain about her lack of clothing. Especially when she wore tight shirts or loose tanks and shorts that would ride up her ass. Although she only barely saw their point; she was too comfortable most of the time to care. She became somewhat conscious of it one day, dressed in a loose tank and soccer shorts when she turned the corner of the stairwell and saw Dick standing at the bottom about to move up. He caught a glimpse of her and averted his eyes as she ran down the stairs, oblivious to her own breasts bouncing under the white, see-through top.

“What’s gotten into you, Wonder Dick?” She teased him as he was now very, very slowly ascending the staircase.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” He answered casually. “Just hope you’re not going anywhere in that.”

She barely heard him as she had already bounded over to the living room and plunked down in an armchair at the fireplace, opening a book and ultimately pursuing nothing but basking in the typical lazy caresses of summertime. 

Jason, on the other hand, would have loved to entertain something like that, in another time. She knew it was a way for him to get his jollies, despite it being incredibly cheap, but at least he wouldn’t be afraid to let her know.

And she kind of liked him for that.

  


**And now, present day, 4.5 months after carrying to term:**

Jason and her had split up.

After she’d had the baby, he ended things with her a short while later. Without much warning either. They didn’t talk much after that - in fact, they weren't on speaking terms. Additionally she was busy, with Amelia for one. At first, she felt rage and the appropriate humiliation of... _being played_ , which over time resolved itself slowly. Of course, she didn’t like losing contact with him - nobody likes being dumped. It will take time to come to terms with it. But her relationship with them: Bruce, Alfred, Dick, the others - their little family, she could call it - remained somehow. 

They were her friends and she felt comfortable with them too. 

However, over time, she finds feelings of affection for someone, increasing attraction. For Jason’s older brother with his well-meaning demeanor, good looks and easy confidence, how all the younger boys looked up to him with a silent, respected authority that was one notch shy of respectful fear. 

She wants to deny it though as her life moves on and months pass by, knowing that brothers of ex’s were usually off-limits. And should probably be. But it becomes a tempting option, increasingly difficult for her to reject with more time. Eventually, she just wants to give in and let her mind take her thoughts wherever they want to go. It was a compelling pull, after all.

She can do this.

“No, I want to sit next to Dick.” She tells Tim as they take their seats.


	2. Diner Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to be a PWP with Jason, but evolved into something else I guess. I don't really know...

Usually she didn’t sit next to him whenever she happened to spend time with them. But she figured it just appeared as an innocent excuse to be closer. Plunking down beside him at the diner bar.

“See, what did I tell ya? Everybody likes me.” Dick slings an arm around her playfully, making her eyes widen when he gave her a mock peck on the top of the head with his chin. She hadn't been expecting that.

“You mean the girls do.” Tim states with an eye roll from the other side of Dick.

“Yeah, well that, too.”

Once he releases her, she pushes her hair out of her face, regaining herself again. It's the usual. Time spent catching up in one another's company. They order and chat. Their usual routine that happens every couple weeks or so. 

Dick seems to be talking with Tim about a new girl the younger boy is now seeing. As if that wasn't old enough already.

"Where's Damian?" She asks during a lull in their conversation. She misses him. As 'difficult' as he can be sometimes, she could at least entertain him with talk of school or something. Right now, she's feeling more like a third wheel, listening to the things they're talking about. Sometimes, she has to wonder: do they ever talk about anything other than girls?

"Probably at home...training." Tim answers, looking her way. "You miss the little brat?"

She smiles. "Too good to join us, I guess."

"You know Dami - if there's no animals involved, he has no interest." Dick is saying, giving her a small smile. "Plus school and stuff."

Poor kid, she thinks, murmuring, "Maybe I'll bring him something." 

“So…” Dick double-checks to ensure the waitress across the bar is out of earshot before dropping his voice to ask Tim, turning his way. “How is your new girlfriend? What's she like?"

Tim answers after a moment. "She's great. What do you mean-"

"No, what's she like? Like...in bed?” 

Tim flushes slightly. “Well...it’s...I mean, we haven’t exactly gotten there yet, if that's what your talking about-” Her eyes widen and she tunes slightly out of their conversation, studying the dessert menu plaque. Does she really want to hear this? No, not really.

Dick's eyes widen. “Wait, you’re telling me you didn’t smash?”

“Jeez, Dick, you’re on a need-to-know.” Tim is remarking.

“C’mon, I'm just trying to be nice here. Don't tell me you need pointers.”

“No, you're being an idiot. I don’t need your pointers-”

“Alright then.” Dick resigns, feigning surrender but still obviously not done with him yet. "I won't spare any of my advice, I guess. If that's what you want..."

Tim, still faintly the color of beets, finally sighs, huffing. “Fine. Later.”

“Of course, anything for my little bro. I don’t understand why you don’t want to hear them now-”

“Please no details. I’m right here, you know.” She reminds them.

Dick looks over and smirks, making her suck in a breath. “You definitely are.”

“Forgive us for that.” Tim apologizes, the redness from his face gradually disappearing as hers somewhat fills in replacement. "Richard's an idiot."

“No, no need to apologize.” She brushes it off, addressing Tim and looking away from Dick - a somewhat difficult feat - at the younger man.

As Dick resumes his conversation with his younger brother, she tries to busy her mind by focusing on her milkshake and to formulate some idea of flirting, some way of showing interest without completely and utterly failing. She could laugh at his jokes, make some of her own, play with her hair. But Tim's here - he'll figure it out and roll his eyes once he see's what's going on, she's tired and honestly, she's starting to think it's all a little pointless. Probably just a puppy crush. All she can think about now are how delicious those cheese quesadillas are going to be. And maybe, if she's nice about it, she can sneak some of Tim's fries. 

After all, she's been out of the game for so long already.

She does however happen to feel Dick's thigh brush against her bare leg at one point when he moves. She hears him pause slightly in his sentence before continuing, after she's moved away. Before she can think too much of it, her plate has arrived and finally, she can focus on other things.

Later, when she's ordering something for Damian, after having received a polite reminder from Tim that the 12-year-old's a vegetarian, she manages to clumsily touch him again. Nudging him with her foot and murmuring a "Sorry" that apparently isn't heard.

“Watch it.” He says, teasing. Because the way he says it makes her want to roll her eyes. He knew what he was doing. 

She hears Tim’s voice from across the table. “What’s going on?” He asks, as perceptive as ever.

“She’s playing footsies with me.” Dick blurts before she can stop him.

She elbows him as best she can because it's artfully dodged for the most part. “Fuck you. You wish.” But flushing slightly.

Tim chuckles, making a comment directed at no one in particular. "Wow, look at these idiotic fourth-graders I'm being forced to hang out with, people..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Will update soon. I'm planning to post more regularly. I have the entire middle and ending written out and pretty much done, it's just a matter or editing and making little tweaks. 💕💕💕💕


	3. Out of Reach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for spelling errors. Will repair em soon. 
> 
> Light angst haha.

Her apartment isn’t much. Tiny. With an equally small balcony. It’s somewhat nice on the non-rainy nights. There is a kitchen with a little island, a decorative clock, a tree painting on the wall and a small living space with a couch and chairs. And that’s about it, save for the bedroom and bathroom.

Gotham University is just down the way, within yelling distance. Some of the campus’ inner-city buildings rest nearby, soaking up sun rays or raindrops or foggy, cloudy afternoons. And on any given day, she could be found studiously flipping through her notes in one of those coffee shops.

She has always been kind of the bookish sort. Save for the encounters with Amelia’s father and all that, leading her a little astray. But obviously, other than that, she was pretty…normal for her age. 

If that's what she could call it. Her current normal is a little different from how things were before. She hasn’t been in school – actually in a classroom - since early March. She’s barely been earning for the past five months. She has no idea if she would’ve been able to handle finals last semester or not. Probably not. There wasn't much energy for that, at the time. Being a college student was already stressful enough. And adding that to taking care of a second little person? By herself? It’s something, alright.

Her leave of absence from the university for ‘personal reasons’ is expiring soon, with the start of the new school year. It’s early August. Every day for the past week just about, it's been raining. Or becoming foggy. A notorious look for this city.

Getting her degree was one of her top priorities before she had to worry about children. Something that was up there with her career goals and being happy with herself. And it still is. Finishing university is a must-do. She’s got words of encouragement and quotes about it scribbled in childhood journals and she's got a few passionate G.U. posters near her headboard in her bedroom, as a constant reminder to move on with her life and try with her goals. _At least _try.__

__Now, she peers at her laptop with an eraser and pencil and half-marked pages in hand, alone in her bedroom with her 4-month-old. There’s gray fog outdoors. Streetlights are switching on about now. The sky bleeds rich mauve and a car alarm sounds off in the distance._ _

__Nothing new has really happened lately. Oh wait, scratch that – there’s some guy that lives in her building who asked for her number the other day. Or maybe last week, she can’t really recall because the days have really started blending together in late summer._ _

__Anyway, she had given it to him – though now she didn’t really know why. He’d always been nice to her, so maybe that was the answer. Not too attractive, but not too bad either. Whatever he saw in her, she didn’t have anything to give him, because she knew he probably wouldn’t be interested anymore upon finding out she had a child. That had been her experience so far anyway. And just last night, he’d sent her a few notorious, late-night “U up?” messages further indicating his intentions. So now, she really had nothing she wanted to give him._ _

__A tired yawn catches her off guard. But it makes sense. She has been at this, on and off, for hours. Time for breaks. Sleep. A snack. She decides to finish her differential equations prep and considers calling it a night. There are commitments in the morning. The usual._ _

  


__

* * *

_  
_

__“And I’ll just need your signature here, miss...”_ _

__“Okay.” She lends her free hand to scan over the paper and mark her signature on the line, one-handed. Then sets the pen down and looks up._ _

__“Alrighty. Looks like you’re all set. Have a great day.” The woman behind the desk says, shuffling some of those papers and giving her a smile._ _

__“Thank you.” She returns it back, a more genuine one this time, full of relief and much less anxiety than she had carried coming into her appointment. The sterile, harshly white – almost exclusively colorless environment of the medical office always put her a little on edge, made her anxious. Even after several check-ups and visits here over the past several months. And even after a long night in at Gotham General Hospital after Amelia came forth._ _

__She remembers the first few weeks were pretty…stressful. Hormonal - to describe in one word._ _

__“You hear that? We’re all done, sweetheart.” She murmurs to Amelia, who is loosely resting on one shoulder of hers, being hugged to her and carried out the doors. And then into the small, bright parking lot. “I’m so glad we were able to get this taken care of today.”_ _

__There’s no comprehensible answer, of course. She’s used to it. Even if her infant was willing to babble right now, she’d basically be talking to herself._ _

__She’s just gotten her blood pressure, weight and body checked – a physical, her vaccinations, Amelia’s got her shots, all questions asked and answered, everything’s taken care of. And her birth control is in her bag._ _

__When she gets home, she takes one and finishes a container of yogurt in front of the fridge. Shoes off. Dressed more comfortably. Looking into the refrigerator to take stock of what's there. She finally seems to have gotten the hang of nursing by now. There’s a fresh, decent supply on the shelves though she could stand to clean out her fridge a little better. But later. Now the sudden cries starting up are trying to give her a headache._ _

__She walks up to the crib, pulls Amelia out and carries her into the bathroom. Undresses, unfolds her diaper, cleans up, redresses, then washes herself up. It's a somewhat well-practiced routine now._ _

__Then, staring down at her for a moment because the protests still haven’t stopped. It’s a miracle her neighbors haven’t said anything yet, haven't complained about the noises sometimes._ _

__“What’s…wrong?” She asks after a few seconds. With a sigh, “I just changed you. What else could I have done wrong?” _What else am I possibly doing wrong?_ __

__******** _ _

____

____There’s no answer. But the cries do stutter for a moment. She reaches in and slip two fingers between the colorful diaper belt and Amelia's skin, adjusting it to make it a little less tight. “Is that it? That better?” _Or is it something else?_ ____

____

__************ ** ** _ _

______ _ _

____She figures if she keeps talking to her, soothing, it will get better. So she does and then lifts Amelia up, smiling and observing for a moment. Her hair has been growing in, she notices. Of course, she’s been well aware of that, but she can admire it more now. She’s about 13 pounds if she can recall correctly, an average weight for that age. Healthy. And pretty green eyes. She's been told that they're hazel. But they look pretty green to her._ _ _ _

______ _ _

************ ** **

______ _ _

____She’s been having nightmares recently. According to the family doctor’s words today, postpartum nightmares for the mother are somewhat normal. The advice she’d received had been pretty self-explanatory: start a dream journal or try to get a better night’s sleep. Take care of yourself more, exercise…and if it gets really bad, for some they resort to taking medications. “But that’s usually for PTSD patients suffering from the aftermaths of traumatic births.” Her physician’s words. “However, don’t worry about that. You had a normal delivery that went _very_ well…” Reassuring her. ____

_______ _ _ _

**************** ** ** ** **

_______ _ _ _

_______Normal_. Her life feels anything but normal. ______

_______ _ _ _

******************** ** ** ** ** ** **

_______ _ _ _

________The students in her building and around her – they’re all so happy and carefree, laughing gaily on their way to the parties that always last so far into the summer, walking their dogs while they go for their daily runs, club-hopping and then diligently spending other long nights in the library just because they can and don’t have to return home to a little person every night. Because they’re not required to go back to every night to take care of a very real and very fragile _creature_. Oh, and don’t even get her started on the girls and their boyfriends – the couples on the weekends, that make her feel like life is just out to spite her at this point. It just wants to be hostile. ________

_______ _ _ _

************************** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

_______ _ _ _

____________But what if she wants a piece of all that too?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______ _ _ _

************************** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

_______ _ _ _

____________Yes, jealously isn’t healthy. But she can’t help it, even when she reminds herself that her life is not a competition. Everything’s gonna be okay. Even if everything’s burning._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______ _ _ _

************************** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

_______ _ _ _


	4. Encounters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know these chapters have been pretty short so far, but I plan to make them a bit longer in the future. :P

She keeps hearing a familiar laugh. Every so often. But it doesn’t really register with her to look up from her screen while she’s working.

The open, airy room smells of coffee. It’s not very crowded. There are pairs of friends catching up with one another at other tables and on the stools, though she’s not the only one sitting alone. She can focus well in places like these.

She’s sitting inside, slightly slumped over her stuff, and then sits back and takes her chin out of her hand. Her coffee cup is a bit untouched. She plans to give it some attention soon but looks up distractedly because she’s hearing that snicker again…before seeing him – oh, fuck – _her crush_. In all his glory and magnificence. Standing between two other uniformed officers just beyond the barista counter and chuckling occasionally with them, facing a little away from where she is at the moment.

_Dick Grayson._

In dark slacks and a button-down. Civvie clothing. _They must be off-duty_ , she thinks. But he’s looking..good, to say the least...as always.

Giving up on the thought of waving seeing as he's distracted, she goes back to her keyboard after watching for a few moments, tearing her eyes away to return to reading and note-taking. But the next glance sees he has actually already turned her way and is coming towards... _her_ , coming closer, coming closer… Alone now. She thinks she remembered to give a friendly smile, in greeting. While praying she looks somewhat presentable, at the moment.

“Y'ello.” He chirps once alongside the little table. Then proceeds to get an eyeful of her screen, leaning a hand on the back of the seat. “Whatcha doing? Studying?”

She hums quietly, looking up. “You here for the coffee and donuts, detective?”

There’s a light laugh. “Yes, actually, I’ll admit.” He peers at her screen a little longer.

“I figured.”

Someone’s calling Dick’s name. She glances towards the counter and he looks up distractedly, moving away. “Hold on.” 

She swallows and manages to get in a few quick paragraphs, only skimming halfheartedly, or so before he returns, now holding a coffee cup, to stand nearby again. Then plopping down across from her, in an empty seat.

“Online classes?” He’s asking.

“Yeah.” All summer long. She sighs and looks across at him, away from her screen. Noticing some of the clips that trap his dark locks behind his ears and smiles for some reason. “This one will be ending soon though. Middle of August.”

“Oh boy, I remember those days.” He offers thoughtfully, returning her expression. “ _But_ enjoy them while you have them. Once you’re out – of school, I mean…things are a bit different, trust me.”

She agrees, thinking _Oh, it’s different now. Right now. Please don’t remind me._

And as if he’s read her mind, “Oh, and by the way, where’s the little lady at?”

She looks up, raising her eyebrows. “Oh, Mila? At home.” Then she reaches up to push some tresses away from her face and adds, “Someone’s watching her.”

“Did you still want me to come and watch her on Thursday?”

She remembers their agreement, the other day. “I-if you can. As long as it’s not too inconvenient…” She starts.

“Sure, it’s no problem.”

She sucks in a breath after a moment. “Thanks for helping me out, Dick. You literally have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“Of course, I’m still free.”

After thinking a few seconds, prudence kicks in. “But you have done this before, right?” Babysitting. They might have already discussed this before, but she cannot remember.

“Yes. Well…Lian was about the same age...I think.”

 _Sure, that can be agreed._ She smiles, then reaches for a notebook and pen from her bag. “Ok, then. I’ll just-” She slips out her phone and sets it besides the paper. “-write the pediatrician number and her allergies down. I’ve got a schedule too. I’d give it to you now, or do you want me to hold onto it?” She lifts her eyes from the page.

“I’ll take it. Text it to me too.”

Once she finishes scribbling, she hands him the sheet. Dick looks over it for a moment - then folds it up and neatly slips it away into a front chest pocket. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” She breathes, giving a modest smile. “I’ll tell Amelia you said hi.” She adds as he moves to his feet again, gracefully - movements that with a certain subtlety speak to the poise and charm of a balanced, agile individual. And more specifically - the fluid ones of professional gymnast - acrobat. She can admire it. In the process, he sends a small smile her way, not seeming to register her ogling at all.

“Sounds good. I would buy you a sandwich or something, but I really have to piss, and get back to work…”

“Good to know.” She supposes, unsure of what else to say. Rolling her eyes after a moment.

Once he leaves, she tries to return to her reading. Her heart is beating a little faster than normal – she’ll chalk that up to nerves. Honestly, her feelings are all just so confusing. Sometimes she’ll feel so friend-zoned with him, the next moment she’ll be thinking – _God, what a pretty human being. Where can one get genes like that?_ And it’s not like she was the only one; she saw the stares Grayson could get sometimes. But additionally - besides the physical - she can’t forget how sweet he can be with her should he want to…sweet to _everyone_ , really. _He’s just a really good person, overall._ And those dreamy blue eyes and dark waves…

She definitely has a type.


	5. Out of The Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: sexual assault (not explicit or graphic but y'know, just a heads up that it will be included in here)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just realized I haven't updated on here in over a month... **screams internally**  
> School has been sucking the energy out of me for the past few weeks and unfortunately not much updating can be done for that reason. So my writing schedule won't be frequent most likely.  
> That being said, I'm definitely not abandoning this story though!

After a night of more consistent sleep, she manages to get through the next day better. Her mother called yesterday, asked to see how she’d been doing. Her father’s not in her life, on the other hand. Actually left them, abandoning his wife for another woman years ago, so that’s pretty much a dead end, though it can choose to haunt her subconscious from time to time. Whenever she has a falling out with a guy, she can't help but to notice the eerie parallels there…as is the case with her most recent partner. At least Jason did her the honor of not leaving for another partner, as far as she knew. It could have been worse.

Maybe something was wrong with her and she just doesn’t know. Maybe it's just a tendency to fall for messed-up people who wish to do others wrong. Like a bad joke that she just happens to be the butt of.

  


Her life has definitely changed. She had to make some sacrifices, including staying around the house more often since she has such a young minor depending on her, who needs vigilant attention and things. Lots of things. Because God forbid anything terrible happens to her.

Despite her life’s mistakes, she loves her daughter more than anything else in the world. She's family, after all. Even if it was just her, Amelia and her mother.

Shuffling to open the door to her sedan and hefting Amelia up, she catches a glimpse of a strange silhouette in the process behind the window of the vehicle beside them. Upon a few seconds’ inspection, she realizes it’s only a dog looking out at her, with a soft face and fittingly kind eyes. A Labrador, it looks like it. Sitting in the backseat of a Wrangler with cracked windows. Suddenly, it starts to bark, deep and sharp yaps, triggered by something out of her vision. She frowns but it doesn't stop – the sound is a minor annoyance honestly, but it becomes a small grudge as she figures out the car seat.

Once that's settled, the shopping cart needs to be returned. So she walks around to the driver side to retrieve it.

Next thing she knows, she feels a firm pressure around her neck. There's something sharp under her chin, she yelps and is pulled back roughly into someone's front, against a wall. A voice is speaking, telling her to be quiet. She can also hear a dog barking, but it sounds more distant, faint and unimportant because her heart is currently skipping a beat. She takes a deep breath.

_Okay, okay, it's no big deal. Just be good and everything will be fine. You'll walk away from this._

"Don't try anything." Someone is going through her pockets from behind, one-handedly. "If you scream, I'll slit your throat." Her assailant is a guy from what she can tell, a loner maybe. There's no one else in the lot. They're not even in an alley, it's the side of a grocery store in broad daylight, a parking lot and-

Oh, _fuck. Amelia. And the dog. What if he sees? The door is still open, shit..._

She hears a curse and jolts when her wallet and phone drops onto the asphalt with a sharp crack. Keeping her breathing measured because the knife at her throat stays there, then suddenly it's gone. Her eyes widen. There's a hand on her ass, groping and...it's disgusting, it's disgusting, it's disgusting... A hand over her mouth before she can say anything and she twists away regardless of the previous threat, exclaiming a muffled protest.

"Have a good one, _sweetheart_." The hand disappears and suddenly she's alone, shoved forward but she catches her balance to prevent from falling in a heap on the ground. She didn't get an opportunity to catch a glimpse of his face, though she's sure it barely matters.

He's gone. There is barking - it's louder again, less distant - and whimpers from a child. Her eyes are stinging. She's not surprised that the adrenaline continues to creep in, along with other things, like humiliation and disgust. She kneels up to get her things and wipes her sleeve, seeing it comes back dry, and starts to take inventory again. Her credit cards and cash are missing, great. _Get up._ She gets to her feet again, brushing herself off. Pebbles peel off the jean fabric and she feels gross, like she needs a shower. She doesn't need to be reminded that the idiot _touched_ her...

It could've been worse, right? Right now, she shouldn't be worrying about herself though. She needs to get home. A baby's crying...

"Fuck, fuck." She's in the backseat in the next moment, remembering that the light of her life is sitting exposed somewhere and then she's shushing Amelia, quieting her down enough to hush her up. She gives her a pacifier and then climbs into the driver seat, beyond done with all the shit of today. 

Brushing it off as bad luck, she supposes next time she won't park over there. She gets her shit together and at some point realizes her face is wet. And this time when she wipes, her sleeve comes back damp.

  


She wakes with the aftermath of another mildly disturbing dream on her mind. A recurring one, actually. Though it’s becoming less and less frequent with time. She didn’t get any good sleep that night for that reason.

Her daughter is lost under the sheets in her bed and she can’t even bring herself to search, because she’s unable to move, stuck in place. Horror and panic sweeps through her like a diseased ice growing in her chest. Watching helplessly – she thinks she’s able to move but does not. Even though she’s aware the child’s suffocating. She can hear every choking sound and broken cry; the sight is so vivid to her it’s _real_ , all too real. And it terrifies her because she’s not crazy. She would never let Amelia _die_.

_What is wrong with you?_

And then darkness. She’s awake, her eyes are open and registering the large lack of light. She has no idea how long she’s just been sitting up like that. It’s quiet except for her uneven breathing. Wisps of the visions come rushing back and images coalesce in her mind. She scrambles up instinctively and moves to the crib, in the process getting her legs tangled in the covers and falling onto the floor before freeing herself. Pushing up.

But Amelia’s… _fine_. She touches her, confirming she’s very much okay with a palm on her tiny swaddled chest, obviously breathing. Unable to cry because unconscious, unable to choke because asleep, unable to suffocate because there’s no fabric lodged in her throat. It takes a long moment for her to tear her gaze away. The whole thing was so disconcerting, how can she not be disturbed?

There have been worse dreams for her child: drowning, getting trapped somewhere, being taken advantage of by someone, a fatal accident. Valid fears. She puts her hand under her chin and leans her elbow on the wood, thinking on how she’s possibly going to be able to return to sleep after this.

 _It’s normal to have this_ , she reminds herself. She’s anxious because she’s attached and cares for Amelia. She just wants to protect her. It’s a reflex and it’s perfectly normal.

With a sigh, she unfolds herself and moves back to the mattress, muttering, “I can deal with this in the morning.” Exhaustion is starting to settle in because her eyes feel weighted. Before crawling into her bed, she searches for the remote and pushes herself to stay up to watch a few empty adult cartoons to make herself feel better. Or really, whatever’s on the most recent station at the moment because she doesn’t have the energy to search for a good channel. At this hour, the only thing they can do is help her mentally avoid the awaiting abyss of nightmares and general unpleasantries for the short term, until she eventually slips under again anyway…  


In the morning, she gets to inhale Amelia’s powdery sweet scent as she’s nursing her. Safe and content, at peace - something she's come to recognize is a privilege for which she should be eternally grateful. Now, it is after the emotional hangover she experienced upon waking up. For the sake of her sanity and health, she can talk her worries out with someone today - most likely it is going to be her mother. If that was needed, of course.

  


* * *

  


Back then, she never could bring herself to put her up for adoption, much less an abortion. It terrified her honestly. An abortion, childbirth, the nightmarish idea of having to deal with either one, etc. Long nights were spent crying, a lot of anxiety and worry on her mattress dreading if something goes wrong. But also there were some calm nights where she would be okay for the most part, reminding herself that she's not the first person to be caught in this kind of dilemma.

Steph was a big voice of reason throughout the whole process. She helped her feel solace and comfort, directed her to Lamaze classes and took it upon herself to check in with her the way a friend of the girl's own did once.

Adoption. She'd let herself consider it even though she'd be lying if she said it hadn't made her feel a tinge of shame. That would allow her to maybe live in a nicer part of town, pay off her student loans more quickly, lead a _normal_ student life. She wouldn't be stuck in a cycle of near poverty for years or who knows how long, at least. But she just couldn't let go that easily. Especially since it was her first time. Being a mother, that is.

Despite his amorous reputation for being a somewhat socially awkward ass, Jason at least didn't withhold any end of financial support her from her for a time while she was expecting. Not to mention she probably wouldn't have a car right now if it weren't for his help - before it was just mace, pocketknives and all the public transportation Gotham had to offer if it wasn't a mere block away.

Jason was never on board with her decisions one hundred percent to begin with, telling her he didn't want anything to do with it but once it became clear that giving their daughter up was not happening, he seemed to warm up to it better. She even put Jason through all the legal trouble of acknowledging paternity. Even might've foolishly told him she felt like she was in love with him at one point. As if someone her age could possibly know what love was.

Until she finally got the idea that he couldn't do 'this' anymore. When he stopped bothering to be a presence in her life, much less Amelia's. She hadn't heard from him since the moment their paths parted. Giving her the impression that he didn't care, that she was on her own to figure all this out. There must be some shame involved...because what else could it possibly be? She just wants to give Amelia a good life. It's difficult and exhausting - not to mention the kind of stuff she has to face up to as an unwed mother.

_You're not a slut, you're not._

_It wasn't intentional, but that's alright. That doesn't make you a whore._

She felt so alone, so ashamed and she still does. Being played is another thing in itself...

  


* * *

  


“So…you coming with us to the party Friday?”

“What party?” She asks with a slight frown, looking up.

“Ben’s, Maria’s, the whole shebang. We were gonna hop around if they’re dry, y’know.” Jolie reminds her from across the library desk. Adam hovers nearby, passively listening in while gathering up his tennis racket and gear bag.

They're relatively new, acquaintances who traded casual banter in mutual classes over a few semesters, now friends who she occasionally spends library time with. Jolie is an amber-skinned brunette, Adam is a fair kid with a light athletic build, the youngest of all of them. “Did you forget already?” Jolie continues. The girl narrows her eyes suspiciously.

“I can’t, sorry…I’ve got work.” She answers after a moment.

“Oh, c’mon. You always say that.” The girl across the table huffs. “When are you not?”

What can she say? That she's genuinely in a bind? They don't know about Amelia, they'd already just assumed she’d dropped out of school early last semester when she became unable to come with them just about anywhere. They never got the chance to figure out she was expecting.

“It’s nothing new.” Adam mutters, straightening up and gathering both Jolie’s and her attention. Her eyes widen, fearing she’s in for it now. But he just continues, “We get it. You’re busy, you feel like you don’t get to relax after midterms. So you continue working your ass off until you can’t anymore. And then…you burn out. It's a typical student story, heard it all before.”

Jolie sighs, considering. “That’s...fair, I guess.”

They don’t look suspicious anymore; they seem content with her excuse. It’s times like these that she thinks they surely wouldn’t care if she told them she had a child to take care of. But then again, what if they’re more close-minded than she’d originally thought? What if they tell everyone and then she-

“I’m not going to…burn out.” She defends, feeling exasperated nevertheless. “I’m fine, Adam. Thanks for the concern though…I suppose.”

“Sounds like you’re in denial.” Adam raises his eyebrows.

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t you have practice to get to?”

He answers matter-of-factly. “A match, actually. Practices don’t start until spring. I’m just fooling around…with a friend.” The little knowing smile he gives at the end is telling.  
“Oooh, you didn’t tell me you had a date.” Jolie interrupts, elbowing him. “Are you bringing her along to the party this weekend?”

She’s thankful that they’ve both caught onto the subject change. While he’s being grilled for the details, she opens a package from her bag and crunches into a granola bar, following along with them while wearing a light smile. As much as she’d like to blow off some steam to celebrate the first round of exams with them, she needs to show up to her shifts for the next few evenings.

“Hey,” She interjects after a moment. “You’re both being awfully loud for a library. Some of us _actually_ have to study…”

Jolie rolls her eyes and slowly moves to her feet. “Okay, okay, we’ll go. But you owe us. Friday, the 30th. It’s a Halloween gig, so you’d better dress up. Spread the word.”

She groans. “I don’t know…”

“Look, it'll be fun! Plus you _do_ need to get _laid_. Especially after your last break-up…”

“Oh my God, shut up…” She groans a complaint, hanging her head. She couldn’t get away with them not figuring out that.

“Who was the guy again? Jason, right?” Adam adds, cracking his knuckles for unnecessary humorous effect. “And you’re sure it’s not the Jason in Chem 201?”

“I’m sure.” She grimaces. “Please…don’t remind me.”

“Adam, c’mon, give her a break.” Jolie cuts in, laughing. “I’m sure karma will catch up to ‘em soon enough.”

“Do you know who you’re going as?” She changes the subject.

“Oooh, maybe Robin, right?” Adam suggests, making her chuckle. “My cousin met him once, actually-”

“And you never shut up about it.” Jolie huffs, shrugging. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure something out. Maybe we can all coordinate.”

“Have fun.”

She watches them leave, hearing them fret over what to do for the event tonight. She’ll admit that it sounds fun. And for once she does feel as though she could actually miss those kinds of things again.

They're right though. She's more than aware of the risks of burning out. All she knows is that student loans can't cut it forever and children are expensive, so she's in a bind. Not to mention what happened the other day.

  


* * *

  
"Wait, you were _mugged?_ " Dick sits up in his seat. Of course, it's only a matter of time before he finds out about her situation. Somehow. Thursday came, just like that. Grayson showed up, as promised. 

Him and Amelia have always seemed to have gotten along well, since the first time they met. Months ago. Upon his arrival today, she’d found herself a little nervous about leaving her alone with him. But then again Amelia was literally his niece – which seemed like enough incentive – and Dick wasn’t exactly crazy or a psychopath. He's pretty normal, right? - the Batman who smiles, the friendlier neighborhood vigilante, his jokes are actually funny, plus he doesn't have a kill count and wouldn't ever hurt a fly even if he tried...unless he needed to. Anyway, it's best not to think about stuff like that. 

In fact, she repeats to him everything that will and might need to be done a few times before realizing she should probably back off and relax. _It’s no different from her usual babysitter Mera, right?_

"Yeah," She says dismissively, grabbing her keys from a bowl on the counter and stuffing them in her pocket. "But relax, it happens like all the time here. This is Gotham we're talking about." _Why are we talking about this now?_

"Well...are you okay?" 

"I'm fine," She crosses her arms over her chest, biting her lip and hovering nearby. "I guess."

"You sure?"

"Yes." It comes out more shortly than expected.

There's a pause. He looks like he's thinking over something, and doesn't believe her.

"I'm right, right? It is super common. You would know."

"Yes, well...tell you what..." He pulls a napkin from her kitchen counter and procures a pen. "What's your address? Because I can always have someone file a report on it at the station."

"What good will that do?"

"It's a start. It doesn't seem like much, but it helps. What's your address? When and where did it happen?"

She tells him, glancing at Amelia in a basket on the countertop. 

"Give me the description again."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember. I...told you, I didn't see his front. I mean, he was wearing black jacket...maybe."

"Was he alone?"

"I think. He also...had a knife." She remembers that much.

"Okay," He pauses with the writing. "Tell me exactly what happened. Don't leave anything out."

She takes in a small breath, looking back at the basket on the table. "Well, I was in the parking lot of the store and y'know, I guess I hadn't been close enough to the front of the store than I'd thought. I left Mila in the car...with the door open accidentally." She pauses uncomfortably, staring at the napkin he's writing on.

"And this guy grabbed me and pulled me against the side of the building. He had a knife on me and told me not to move, so I didn't. Then he started going through my pockets..." She swallows dryly, feeling like she just might throw up. "Dick, I don't want to talk about this. Just forget it."

"What do you mean?" He looks up, eyes widening. "I can always make it anonymous." When she still doesn't say anything, he puts down the pen. "Okay, did something happen that you're not telling me about?"

She nods after a moment.

"So did he _assault_ you sexually?"

 _Why is it so hard to just say it, fuck._ "He started groping me, yeah." She breathes, feeling sick to her stomach. But she also instantly feels lighter, like a small weight is being lifted from her shoulders.

"Shit..." He sits back and runs a hand through his short hair uneasily. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't say that in front of her." She says, indicating Amelia nearby.

"Did he do anything else?" He continues, apparently not hearing and leaning in again to write, muttering something under his breath.

"No. I swear I'm not lying."

"No injuries?" He looks up. She shakes her head. Until then she has never wished so strongly that she had some more of the defense training - some semblance of it - as so many of her friends seem to possess. The most she's ever done is fucking play-wrestle with Jaybird. 

"I'm sorry. If you ever want to talk about it if it makes you feel better...please go ahead. But I get if you don't."

"Right."

"Want to keep it anonymous?"

"Sure. Thank you."

There’s a hum of approval, then Dick stops writing and sighs, running a hand down his face. "If I'm being completely honest, sometimes I wonder about you and Amelia's well-being. This is a perfect example. Like I know we both grew up in this city, so I'm sure you know it's not the best if you want to have a, um... _normal_ childhood. At least in my experience, and with most people I know."

"Well, you are practically her godfather in a way. I'm sure she's in good hands if anything were to happen to me." She says more confidently, thinking an aside that she should find some actual godparents. Her phone starts buzzing then stops, reminding her. "I should get going, also."

"Okay. Be safe. Give me a hug." He offers from the bar stool, giving her a sad smile.

She raises her eyebrows but lets herself get pulled into a gentle but firm side-embrace; she's taller than him for the moment but can really appreciate the broad shoulders of his back. His body is hot and she winces when she realizes she must feel super cold to him, but he doesn't say anything when she pulls away before she never wants to let go.

“Okay, so if Mila gets hungry, though I doubt it, don’t forget to warm up what you give her, okay? If it’s cold, it could give her a stomachache, you know.”

"Got it, I have the list and everything. Don't worry." 

She smiles and the urge to vomit seems to have fully subsided for the most part, along with the slight trembling. _Since when did that start?_ "Of course." 

"Also, you got any cereal?"

She snorts then catches herself. "In here." She steps past and opens a cabinet to pull out some boxes of options. "I knew you were coming so I made sure to stock up. Just try to save some for me at least."

"You're the best, I could kiss you right now."

 _Erm, what?_ She flushes, looking away and murmurs very quietly, "You're more than welcome to."

"What was that?"

She smiles, unable to look away from the impossibly beautiful smirk he's wearing. " _That_ was nothing. Goodbye, sweetie." She calls to Amelia, giving her a small kiss on the forehead. She blows him a kiss and leaves before her boss starts blowing up her inbox asking if she's on her way. The usual guilt sets in while she's leaving though she's used to it somewhat.

  


Later, in the darkness of her room she strips down to her underwear and falls into bed after eating a frozen pizza for dinner and nursing. Alone again. Amelia also seems to have taken to her attempt at sweet potato waffles well. Compared to other things which seemed to be a complete, messy disaster. Her teeth started coming in, so that's cool. When she gets more able to start eating more solid foods, it'll be a fun milestone, she supposes.

Meanwhile, her mind is tugging her somewhere else though. She's also thinking about Richard. His fresh, sweet smell, the splash of pink on his face when he's upset or embarrassed, his stupid quips, the warmth from his slender body. When he's around, all of a sudden it's like the only thing she knows how to do is trip over herself, or her words. A complete fool for it.

Not to mention the perfect tanned skin and... Okay, she has to stop herself from going down that messy road, looking down only to stare at the shape of her thighs in the dark. Perfectly aware that if she moves her hand just a little bit, she could be giving herself a different, much needed-

Sure enough, it's sitting there in her lower abdomen, warm and tightening like a coil.

No, it's pointless. He's most likely messing around with other people right this moment; from what is known, she's aware that Dick is some kind of player. Pretty much a human incubus though she could never blame him...because if _she_ looked that good, she'd also be living life to the fullest as well. But it's no use getting worked up over someone like that, as much as she wants to know what it would be like.

She turns over and tugs her sheets over herself, squeezing her legs together so the dirty thoughts will go away, whispering a goodnight to her baby girl and herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw how did you guys like the Gotham Knights trailer? I'm pretty psyched


	6. Rest of My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family planning 101 with Jason and Reader makes a friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween, my peeps! Yes, in this chapter Jason technically speaks (kind of) if you were waiting for that. And no, I totally did _not_ just temporarily forget and diminish his character's existence in this story for several chapters possibly for suspense (I try) mwahaha 👻🎃👻

_You need to move on, you're being selfish. You should be putting_ her _first, not you and your 'feelings'._  
  
_You deserve so much better._  
  
_Don’t worry, things are gonna work out. This time next year, you'll barely recall a thing..._  
  


Late October brings the usual seasonal changes. Pools are drained, fewer outdoor parties and function barbeques, and twilight creeps earlier into the day. The orchards at Wayne Manor brandish tons of apples, which Alfred tells her she’s more than welcome to help herself to. The few trees in the city haven't seemed to have lost their leaves just yet, but the early ones show signs of browning, turning golden in the amber light from a late afternoon.

On the weekend, she falls into the usual routine and ends up running small errands, which include ferrying and dropping people off - usually mutual friends - at different spots around the city. This time, she agrees to give someone new a lift to a seasonal fair of all places.

This week has been nothing new. It won't ever stop raining, another bad storm after bad storm. The usual nocturnal song of gunfire and distant screams. The power also flickers in and out one evening - something having to do with an incident with Mr. Freeze...? Apparently the maniac had something to do with blitzing the electrical grid and all for his _experiments_ which ended up making the evening news. 

“Thanks, R/N. I owe you one!” Aless slams the passenger door a little too roughly for her taste. She grimaces.

One of the downsides to having a car is that she’s basically an Uber for most of her student apartment floor. Of course, compensation is involved. Though this time, she doesn’t mind the burden because the event actually looks fun. It smells like pumpkins and fresh pretzels. The lights are pretty, it’s a warm night, and there’s a surprising number of people for the late October chill. Aless settles into her group of friends and they disappear together just like that, laughing loudly into the early evening.

“What rides do you guys want to do?”

“Let’s do this Ferris wheel...!”

In general, the fall carnivals are always popular spots for kids and most students - those in and out of university every year. Held near the city shipyards with a pretty view of the water and the city harbor.

She continues staring longingly for a moment, then takes in the view of the city and harbor with a coffee in hand before pulling out her phone. Thinking about the last 6-7 months. A wispy autumn wind whips at her clothing from the water, tickling her skin. On the other side of the railing, light waves churn. _I should head home to get ready. For tonight._

Working long shifts has rendered coherent thoughts unlikely. Impulsive. And stupid. Amelia will have to come with her to her night class tomorrow, which she enrolled in with all the other moms - young and old - and generally older adults so there’s that to look forward to. Luckily, her professor was understanding of her 'situation'.

Something brings her to find Jason’s contact, the last dredge of their broken ‘family’. For no particular reason. But it’s not there, at least it’s not where it should be. For a moment, she panics then remembers she _made_ it that way, deleted it a long time ago. A stupid heat of the moment thing that she didn’t realize she actually had the capacity to do.

But because she feels weak now, she starts sifting through her call history, trying to reconfigure the number from memory.  


  
_Maybe one day you can see her again, I sure hope so._  
  
_I'd like that._  
  
_Maybe then we'll even be on the same page._  
  


It takes a long moment to find the number but once she does, it jogs her memory while she hovers over the button. And tryies to put aside her feelings for now.

She knows the voicemail by heart. “ _Hey, you’ve got the voicemail for Jason. If I’m not answering the phone, it's probably because I have nothing to say to you. So hang up now...or not and leave a message I most likely won’t listen to. Good luck!_ ”

However after many rings she gets it again, not that she’s at all surprised. She winces at the sound of his voice, oddly familiar but not. 

A harsh sigh.

“Jay, it’s me. I know you hate me and I know we’re not doing this together, but...please call me back?” She wipes a fat droplet off the screen. “It would help a lot...for a start. We should at least stay in touch.”

She hangs up with a sniffle as more water gets on the screen, immediately regretting what she’s just done. Her heartbeat is still racing for some strange reason. Talk about making an already shitty, mediocre day worse.

_I'm not begging, I'm just letting him know I'm here. Here for him...right?_

She wipes her face with a jacket sleeve and walks back to her waiting car, a wave of shame washes over her as she regards it sitting there. More spray from the water wets her shoes before a light rain starts up, further dampening the harbor pier.  
  


* * *

  
  
Class was nothing out of the ordinary - with the obvious exception of Amelia being there. She takes her usual seat far away from others in the large, oversized hall, nursing a mug of coffee as Dr. Bertinelli starts with attendance. All the while, she prays that Amelia will remain well-behaved. Even when she's sitting somewhere awake with a pacifier in, she's extremely paranoid.

 _Don't cry, don't cry. And please don't scream._ The last thing she needs is utter mortification right now. It's already a big enough privilege that Dr. Bertinelli permitted them both here.

However many minutes later, she jolts slightly when she realizes someone's speaking to her, snapping her out of a daze.

"Oh...hey, Avery." She realizes the ginger girl wearing plaid who always sits just before her is looking back at her, wearing a confused expression.

"Group project...?" Avery starts. "Need a partner?" 

She blinks, sitting up to be more alert in the seat and puts away her phone. "Yeah, sure." Everyone in the hall is quietly chatting now and she catches on. It must be break time.

Avery smiles, face lighting up suddenly. "Hey, who is _this_? She's so cute."

"Oh, Mi-Amelia, I mean." She answers after a moment when she realizes who the girl is referring to.

"That's such a pretty name. I _love_ babies, they're so adorable."

"Um, thanks." She laughs a little nervously, turning back to her page of notes. Avery passes her a sheet of paper with project details. A debate project where they'll be creating a proposal for one side of a controversial subject matter of their choosing. "So what topic do you want to do...?"

"Abortion's pretty controversial."

She hums.

"Gun control, death penalty, pornography." Avery googles some ideas and reads through a list.

"There's plenty of stuff on porn already, for sure. How about drinking age?"

"Yeah, you're right. I feel like a lot of people would choose it first too. Let's do alcohol and drinking age."

She smiles and watches Avery fill out their sheet.

"Also, you're from University Park, right?"

She looks up. "Yeah...? How'd you know?"

"Oh...we just have the same metro stop." Avery laughs nervously. 

"I didn't know you took the metro. Do you live there too?"

"Yeah. Are you taking it today? Want to walk together?"

She breathes a sigh of relief. "Sure." Beats walking to the station alone. Parking on campus isn't cheap; the subways can be better sometimes. 

"Cool," Avery smiles. "But I usually leave right after lecture ends..."

"Me too. We can talk about the project on the way, I suppose."  
The subway is fortunately uncrowded with fewer Gothamites commuting back to their homes, or to commit various degrees of criminal activities throughout the night. It isn’t so late that the station is empty but at least it’s no longer rush hour, so they don't have to pack in like sardines in one car. She glances down at her phone every so often, not surprised that Jason hasn't acknowledged any of the messages. The 20 pounds Amelia puts on her chest is starting to make her realize that the kid is _growing_ , and faster than she actually realized.

"So I meant to ask, what brings you to such a late session of Honors History?" Avery asks one short ride later as they're leaving the mezzanine level. The fresh surface air is cool and crisp compared to the stuffy subsurface sort. Campus is quieter at night and their apartment buildings loom only a few blocks away. "Other than...being a mom, of course."

The question catches her off guard but so far Avery seems pretty decent. Free of judgement, at least. "That and work..." It's best not to pour her heart out to someone she barely knows, so she doesn't say anything further than that. "What about you?"

"Oh, well for me... I was just super late with registering, so ultimately I'm paying the price."

She laughs. Unsure of what else to say.

"Are you a full-time student?" Avery says.

"Part-time. I'm taking some classes online."

"Oh wow, look at that."

"Look at what?"

She turns to see where Avery is pointing and sees, framed by distant buildings, the signal diffused by moonlit clouds and illuminated against the smoggy sky.

Avery continues. "What _is_ that? It keeps appearing every other night. At first I thought it was just me..."

"That's the Bat Signal. You know...for Batman." Her eyes widen when she realizes Avery doesn't seem to have a clue what she's talking about. "Wait, are you new to this city? You just moved here, right?"

"Yeah. Like a few months ago. I moved for the semester." Avery adds.

"From where?" She frowns.

"Central City."

 _That explains it._ "Well we should probably head inside soon. Since you're new, the zoo is _absolutely_ a must-do. And I'd recommend the public library, if you're into that. I'd show you around sometime myself if you want..."

"So I've heard. And yeah, that'd be cool. It's hard enough getting to know people coming from so far away, but I'm just hoping the Halloween parties will help with that. Speaking of that, are you going to any?" 

She hesitates for a moment. "I might...but no promises." Her phone vibrates in a pocket, but a quick check confirms it's only general buffoonery from a Steph and Cass groupchat.

Avery smiles. "Sure. Also, do you mind explaining one thing for me before we go?" 

"Um, sure." She puts an arm around Amelia who starts squirming in place, finally waking up from a nap now that the hum and creak of the train is no longer lulling her to sleep. "What's up?"

"What _is_ Batman exactly?"

  
  


* * *

  
  


**10 months ago:**  
  
She shuts the yellow taxicab door and her gaze automatically takes in the large, grand apartment complex rising towards the sky painted with wisps of clouds. It sits on the water. The 'better' part of the city where high-rises with sunny faces populate the inner harbor. It’s not dog parks and picnics in the park, but pretty damn close to it.

A long ways from Park Row. And Jason lives here.

Jason is unfortunately a homicidal twenty-one-year-old at this time; a crime boss living near the Upper East of Gotham’s Midtown. But when he tells jokes - which is rare enough in itself - it makes her smile and he somehow notices. _She_ notices that he notices, and he approves. Obviously he has a kill count and _more_ , not that his activities could make her wince anymore at this point...

_All the more reason to figure out how to have a baby with this guy, right?_

Okay, she'll admit to being a little too attached. Maybe. She wouldn't be staying for just the sex.

Shortly after exiting the elevator, she lets herself take in a breath and runs a hand through her hair before knocking, hearing a "Come in." The door swings back slightly and she realizes it's already propped open, so she pushes against it and steps inside. It smells crisp like fresh laundry and citrus candy, and the glass case of blades, knives and katanas immediately catch her eye. As they always do.

Jason looks up from the couch when she enters, folding away a tablet. "You're early."

"Less traffic today." She says distractedly, still eyeing the rather impressive array of blades. "You're sure you're not too busy to talk, right?"

"Not at the moment." He sits up fully and stands, stretching his arms. All the while gaze briefly taking her in and settling on the midsection portion of her outfit. "Wow."

"What?" She blinks, feeling mildly objectified. _Rude_.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean..." He answers, face heating up slightly. It draws attention to the already prominent splatter of dark and light freckles across his upper cheeks and nose. "I meant the...bump. It's just... _growing._ "

She laughs weakly after a moment as she looks away. Amused. "Yeah, well that's what it does."

They fall quiet. She looks back at the window with the pretty view because it's easier than looking into his eyes right now.

"So, we should just start talking about this, yeah?" 

"Right." He gestures to the couch, but she chooses to stand. Not moving. Her stomach feels a little weird.

"You still don't want kids?"

Jason bites his lip, now sitting on what she assumes is some fancy type of bar stool. "You don't have to say it like _that._ "

"Well, it's true." She crosses her arms over her chest. As best she can do right now. "And when I said I told people, I only meant like a couple. You didn't have to get upset."

"I wasn't upset, I just...was thinking it'd be better if we just kept quiet about it." He admits carefully, unbothered for the most part by the accusations.

"For what reasons?" She gives him a look.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Jason continues when she raises her eyebrows. "It's no one else's business. And it doesn't have to be so you don't have to _make_ it. So do us both a favor here and don't go around telling everyone."

"Steph isn't _everyone,_ she's my best friend." She scoffs, taking a seat in the nearest armchair. "In fact, they were probably going to find out anyway. And hell, since when did you care what everyone else thinks?” She adds when he doesn't say anything,

"Whoa, _relax._ It's not about them." He explains, keeping an even tone. "It's bigger than that. This is about you knowing-" He hesitates uncomfortably. "-knowing about, you know...what we do."

"You sure this doesn't have to do with everyone finding out you're getting an illegit child?"

“Oh, don't be delusional. I just thought-” Jason scoffs, looking mildly annoyed. He runs fingers through his dark hair. “You know what? Forget it, this is reckless, it’s stupid...”

“It’s not stupid, you’re para-”

“You know about my life, you know about a lot of people’s lives. What if one day someone decides to go looking for you - and for her? You say that you don’t care about that, but that’s basically agreeing to put both of your lives on the line. You _don't_ realize what this means for all three of us.”

She huffs a sigh defeatedly, falling quiet as Jason continues.

“This doesn’t need to involve either of you.” He adds as he moves to stand, remaining a distance away. The chair squeaks against the floor. "You do not need to be tied to me for the rest of your life and I know you can't possibly _want_ that. That's out of the question, it'll get you both killed. What you're proposing isn't _safe._ ”

She feels a small pang of something in her chest at that - sadness maybe. But certainly disappointment. “Jason, that's fine, but you can’t just pretend like she doesn’t exist!”

“Excuse me?” 

“Our baby! It’s like she doesn’t exist to you. You were just acting like it!” She continues exasperatedly.

“She does exist! I’m gonna be paying however many grand-” 

“I’m not talking about that.” She snaps, his persistence finally getting her frustrated. “I can’t do all this by myself! We need to talk about how this is gonna work.”

“Okay, okay. But calm down first...” He says, eyes widening. "Are you okay?"

At that moment, bile stirs in her stomach and she wants to let go of it, but trying to suppress the sensory stuff doesn't help much. She blinks, then gets up from the chair carefully. 

"I'm fine-" Next thing she knows, a small amount spills onto the floor. She puts a hand over her mouth. 

“Oh fuck, come here.”

It’s a little a first and then a lot more, rising up in waves from her abdomen and spilling out of her mouth.

She’s vaguely aware of somehow being brought into the bathroom. That’s where she has to be, because she recognizes the oval shape of the toilet bowl. After a minute of absolute misery, it seems to stop. She empties the last pitiful bit and then spits, spluttering and coughing. Drooling everywhere. It's under her chin and pools under her tongue.

Jason lets go of her hair and starts saying something. Something she can't fathom at the moment, placing a hand at the small of her back.

“You okay now...?”

She gasps after a moment, still struggling to compose herself. She feels spent now and empty, though her throat burns. "Don't touch me." She pushes his hand away roughly.

“Fine." He replies. "Just...stay here, don’t move.”

All she can do is nod. Her throat hurts, everything is sore and she feels like shit. When Jason comes back, she accepts a glass of water from him and washes up with the sink to compose herself, before listening to his advice to lay down in the armchair subsequently.

“Fuck, I’m sorry about the rug.” She admits the moment Jason returns from cleaning up, all too aware of the mess she left behind in the living area. The guilt kicks in shortly after she lies down, feeling a little less uneasy now that the nausea is gone. 

“I was never really a big fan anyway.”

She hums.

“ _So..._ you should get some rest. I’ll stop by later. I’m-”

“Jay, wait. This is important.” She stops him with a hand on his wrist, meeting his dark green eyes.

“What...?” He jerks reflexively. "What's up?"

"We need to..." She groans in a frustrated manner. "We still need to talk about what we're doing. With the baby."

Jason makes a quiet sound, starting tentatively, "Okay..."

Her throat threatens to knot up. "I still don't know what to do, I'm scared and I can't..." She stops, voice cracking roughly.

"You can't what?"

"I can't tell her...my mom." She breathes, squeezing her eyes shut to stop tears.

With that, Jason sighs, taking a seat on the ottoman and running a hand over his face. After a few seconds of stillness, he looks again to see an utterly lost girl looking up to him like he has all the answers, not that he'd blame her at this point. Hopeless. Caught in a state of dysphoria. And it honestly scares him. 

It fucks with his psyche - if he even has one at this point - reminding him of the inconstant, limp woman in his other life who spent a third of it incapacitated on their apartment floor. And having to care for her and _raise_ himself _by_ himself was hard enough then.

 _You haven't seen her all this time?_ is his immediate thought.

"I don't even know how to start to tell her." She continues, drying her face with her sleeve. "What if she kicks me out? She doesn't even fucking _know_ you."

"Then don't tell her." Jason answers, a little more tightly than intended.

"That's not-" She laughs weakly. "-going to hold up very well."

"No, I mean..." He makes an inpatient sound, not unlike Damian's signature _tt_ 's that the kid likes to pull around him. He makes a mental note to avoid that. "I mean, don't tell her yet. You have to eventually, but...n-never mind." He's well aware of the weird look she gives him for his behavior, so he looks away.

She hesitates. "No, go ahead. Say it."

"I don't have anything to say."

She ignores that and sits up more, not wanting to quibble with that right now. "Does your dad know?" She winces when the movement causes her insides to feel strange again, reminding her of her delicacy.

"My dad?" He laughs humorlessly.

"I mean, Bruce." She says tentatively, wincing at her fuck-up.

"Bruce, no. He's gonna kill me. Especially if...you know, you decide to go through with it."

She falls quiet.

Jason squirms uncomfortably, then watches as she presses the pads of his fingers over her eyelids before rubbing. He continues, "We should probably make a decision first before you, or I, tell anyone."

A nod. He's right, she supposes.

"Look, don't kill me for saying this, but-"

"I'm not gonna kill you for saying anything. You can say what you want, go ahead."

"You're not actually thinking of going through with this, right?"

"Jason, it's easier said than done." Adoption, that is. If she's being completely honest, she can't fathom the idea of handing her firstborn off to some aspiring psychopath Gothamite. _What if I don't?_

"Obviously." His expression softens and he sighs, "And yeah, I know..."

There's a pause. She hesitates, looking down, and starts to play with her hands. "And what if - hypothetically - I want to keep it?"

"You've thought that through?" Jason replies steadily, expression unreadable save for raising his brows. If he's freaking out internally, she can't tell.

"I have..." She admits quietly after a moment. "I've been thinking over it. It could work, especially if you help."

"Well, I'm not going to be much of it. You _know_ this isn't the right place for that."

Her throat turns dry. She knows Jason's barely had parents. And she's asking him to do the impossible and be just that.

"So if I go through with it," She prompts, taking up both of his cold hands. His skin is pale as a ghost and she tries to ignore the multiple scars running down the forearms. "You'll help me, right?"

Jason is quiet for a beat, reading her expression to see if she's serious. She almost buckles under the unnerving gaze, but then he finally looks away and pulls his hands back. "I'll think about it." He murmurs.

She sighs, looking down at her hands again. "That's fine. I know it's a lot."

Jason opens his mouth like he's going to say something, hesitating before finally continuing. "It's asking more than you think." He replies evenly. "You've never had a baby before, I've barely had a stable 'family' to come home to. And not to mention, we'll both have to give up what we do. Your school, my 'life'." 

"Whoa, whoa, wait." She says, perking up and looking straight at him. "You don't have to give up your life. I never said that!"

"How else would it go then?" Jason reaffirms. Then, shaking his head, "Look, no offense, but what you're making right now...it's shit. You're barely cutting it and you're just a student. Plus you're what...nineteen? What if your mom disowns you like you said? You're going to need help, and you're probably going to come to me for it."

She groans, making a frustrated sound. "No, I know... Jason, I know how much what you're doing means to you." And she does. Because she's all too aware of his nighttime 'activities', wetwork and the subsequent obligations and all. And sometimes it's actually scary how much it doesn't faze her. 

_If she thinks he's not a monster out there, he can't be one in here either, right?_

She presses on. "I'm not asking for you to give it up. I know you're not going to. We don't have to get more involved, or even get married. We could share custody, or whatever it's called - I don't know. Just...think about what I said. We'll figure something out." _Don’t worry,_ she tells herself. How can she not when she doesn’t know what the hell to do?

Jason stops holding his breath. "Fine. Yeah, we'll talk more on it sometime. I guess I'll be coming by later. Rest up."

"I'm not staying," She says as he pushes up to his feet, moving to hers as well. "I have to go to the administration office."

"What for?" He frowns.

"To petition for leave, you know. I can only go so much longer like this." She gestures. Thankfully, standing on her feet again doesn't render her into dizziness as she feared it would.

"Need a ride?"

"Sure." She agrees. Though she knows it's not going to be a bike this time - or possibly ever again because she still can't get used to the lean or the feeling while hanging off the back of one. Even while just fooling around together in the safehouse garage.

"Oh right, you're no fun anymore." He adds while procuring keys to a coupe. "All that I ask is that you don't puke all over my seats... Should I give you a helmet just in case?"

She scoffs, but that could never stop her from saying it with a smile anyway. "Fuck you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more happiness, Brendon Thwaites from Titans being a goofball  
> 
> 
>     https://www.instagram.com/p/CG7gO0DA2aQ/

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t bring myself to write this in first or second person even, for some reason lol. Reader is the main character ‘she’, a POC who became a close family friend of the "Batfam" upon courting Jason, is a university student and lives in a Gotham apartment.


End file.
